Kyouya blinked his eyes open, rubbing the sleep from them, slightly disoriented in the dark. What? Where am I? Oh yes, the airplane. Flying commercial, as I recall, he thought, groaning internally. He peered out the window. Still the middle of the night I guess. It's not even morning yet and I'm already in a good mood? What happened? Why on Earth would I be pleased to be flying commercial? In fact, he thought indignantly, it is completely demeaning for me as an Ootori. They don't even have a bed on this plane! It's not like I'm that moron Tamaki who rejoices in every opportunity to talk with commoners and eat cheap peanuts, first-class or not, he huffed. I can't even eat peanuts! I'm allergic! Did they want me to die of anaphylactic shock? It's a good thing Haruhi told them that before I made sure they all lost their jobs – Wait. Haruhi?

His head snapped upright and he swiveled slightly, smiling as he observed the petite brunette sitting in her own seat, eyes closed gently and headphones on, snuggled cozily into the oversized jacket she was using a blanket.

But why, he wondered, is she looking a little blurry?

Kyouya blinked again, finally registering the lack of glasses on his face. He frowned, searching around him in the seat to try and find them. They couldn't have slipped off my nose, he mused while checking underneath his seat. My father made sure of that years ago, after that incident. Despite himself, a bittersweet grin came to his face.

oOoOo

The Ootori household, 17 years prior.

Ootori Yoshio sat in his office and sighed, stroking the soft bookmark that he held in his hand. Hinata, why did you have to leave me? Ootori Hinata, as her name suggested, had been the light of everyone's lives, especially his. And now, cancer had taken her away. He closed his eyes, remembering the first time he had seen her.

He had been giving a guest lecture at Ouran University, his alma mater, on the developing pharmaceutical industry as a part of the public campaign surrounding his move to take the company into new grounds by entering the pharmaceutical research business. It was risky, yes, for their medical instruments group, the winning formula, so to speak, that had made his own grandfather rich, but he felt it was worth it. He walked briskly out of the classroom, briefcase in hand and turned a corner, brushing past the shoulder of a young lady who walked by with a book at her side. As she walked on, Yoshio realized a small bookmark had fallen out of it and was just lying on the ground. It's not my problem, I should just leave it. Well, there is a girl involved. She looked pretty. Maybe she'll be impressed by my thoughtfulness. He evaluated all the possibilities that could come from this, weighed the costs and the benefits, and then shrugged and stooped to pick up the bookmark. Jogging back to the girl, he tapped her shoulder and attempted a winning smile.

"Madam, is this yours?"

"Oh, thank you for returning this!"

She took the bookmark and then turned away and kept walking. The winning smile was disappearing rapidly from Yoshio's face. This was not going how he had planned.

"Wait, but –" He paused, thinking of something to say. "Can I walk with you?"

"I guess," she replied absent-mindedly, turning at the pages of her book.

"Are – are you a student here?" He cursed himself and his anxiety.

She looked at him speculatively before answering, "Yes."

Here the girl stopped and looked at him, eyes twinkling. "But I suggest that if we are to continue this conversation, we should sit down somewhere. You're making me nervous just looming over me like that. Too tall," she complained. "But look, let's sit on this bench here," she called out to him, making her way over with her hand outstretched.

During the course of that conversation, his work forgotten, he had learned a few things:

Her name was Nakagawa Hinata, from a minor political family (An acceptable match, he thought to himself. Wait? Who's thinking of matches? I just met the girl.).

She was a graduate student in astrophysics, and tried to explain her research to him (I'm not sure what she's talking about but it sounds interesting so I'll smile for now and look all this up later.).

She had 3 elder brothers (Yikes.).

Her favorite season was spring (Do you feel it would be too hasty if I asked for her number?).

She loved the smell of old books (I'm definitely asking for her number).

And, well, the rest was history.

Yoshio rested his head in one hand. Hinata, what about our children? You know I love them, but you showed it. You were the one who sang them songs, told them jokes, showed them the stars. I care about them a lot, but I have the entire zaibatsu to run. I feel like sometimes I can be too strict, but always you were there to temper that. Yuichi is already 17, but he seems too academically driven to be a shrewd businessman. I wonder where he got that from? And Fuyumi, she's 15 now. How am I supposed to deal with a teenage girl? She's trying to fill your role, but no one has the heart to tell her she hasn't a domestic bone in her body. Those onigiri were barely edible. But, on the bright side, I can tell she will be just as beautiful as her mother. Akito, he used to make so many jokes, appropriate or otherwise. I used to scold him, but now I just want to see him laugh like a normal 11-year-old. And Kyouya, he's just a child but already checking the stock market! Actually, he reads voraciously, on just about any topic. Lately, Hinata, he's been falling asleep using my old medical textbooks as pillows, he continued with a smile. But, he added, I can't afford to be soft with them. They have too many responsibilities.

Right now, though, I'd like to see them smile again.

Since Hinata-sama's death, the whole house had been under a melancholy spell. The curtains were drawn, the staff walking around in a hush, and the children aged beyond their years. Dinners were a somber affair, everyone just picking at their food silently at the huge table until they were dismissed. Today was no different, except for the fact that 8-year-old Kyouya had a cold.

Not wanting to bother his father or his nanny, he had just slipped into Yuichi's room and grabbed some cough syrup (Ootori-brand) from the counter, pushing his glasses up his nose. Actually he didn't know how much to take. His mother had always done it for him. After he wiped the mutinous tears from his eyes, he downed some of it, but it seemed to be taking a while to kick in. Now, at dinner, his nose wouldn't stop prickling.

Ahh –

Yuuichi looked up and narrowed his eyes. "Kyouya, don't make noises."

Aahhh –

Yoshio gazed sternly from above his glasses, but it was too late.

Aaaachhooooo!

Everyone at the table watched in horror as Kyouya's ill-fitting glasses sailed across the table and landed directly in Yoshio's bowl of rice. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Akito could hold it in no longer and broke out into giggles. Eventually, they were all laughing, and even Yoshio's mouth quirked a little bit.

The next day, he opened the curtains, ordered Kyouya's glasses tightened, and thanked Hinata's spirit for lifting those of his children. He threw himself back into his work with a passion, dedicating it all to the memory of his wife, expecting perfection not just from himself but from those around him, especially his children, in everything from their glasses frames to their choice of spouse.

oOoOo

Returning back to the present, albeit slowly (his naps took a lot out of him), Kyouya saw a glimmer of something metallic in Haruhi's hand, inside the sleeve of the jacket. Slowly, as to not wake her, he opened her hand, marveling at how small it was in comparison to his own, and gazed in surprise at what he saw there. His glasses, nestled neatly into her tiny palm. As he took them out of her hand, she stirred slightly and sat up.

Cursing himself at his clumsiness, Kyouya apologized to her,

"I'm sorry, Haruhi, I –"

"No, no, it's fine, Sempai," she cut him off. "I wasn't really asleep, just resting," she said, stretching slightly. "After you fell asleep, I just took your glasses off your face because I didn't want them to fall off. But then, I didn't have anywhere to put them, so I just had to hold them for a bit, and then I dozed off, and, well, it doesn't really matter, does it?" She looked down slightly abashedly.

"Still, my thanks, Haruhi. That was remarkably thoughtful of you."

Haruhi muttered something quietly.

"Did you say something?"

"I said, I always thought you looked more handsome without your glasses anyways."

Kyouya smirked and sifted through his memories to find the last time she had seen him without his glasses on. He stiffened slightly in embarrassment as he remembered the beachhouse and turned to find Haruhi had done the same, looking away.

He coughed awkwardly to diffuse the tension. Maybe I should make a joke to lighten the mood.

"However, I'm glad you didn't lose them, or I would have had to add that to your debt."

Instead of laughing, Haruhi merely looked confused and marginally worried.

"My debt? Why?"

He sighed internally.

"It was a joke."

"How is putting me in debt funny, Kyouya-sempai?"

He spluttered, or at least as close as he could come without losing his dignity.

"No, I didn't mean it like that! I was merely referring back to our high school days. Just forget about it, Haruhi."

"So it would have been funny to you then, at least?"

"Yes. No!"

A noncommittal "Hmm…" was all he received in reply.

I forgot that the girl is a lawyer. A damn good one too, if this cross-examination is anything to go by. She is quite literally out of my league, Kyouya thought wryly.

Still, it looks like Plan A (Impress Haruhi With My Wit, or IHWMW for short) can be scratched off the list, he continued, slightly morosely.

Well, maybe I can impress her with my looks? She's never been one to be overwhelmed by superficial stuff like that (little did he know), but it can't hurt to give it a shot. He hastily composed his face and turned nonchalantly to provide the best profile. Suddenly he was glad that Tamaki had made all of the Host Club practice model poses in the mirror. He peered from the corner of his eye to judge her reaction, then turned fully in exasperation as he saw Haruhi staring off into the distance, obviously thinking something over, not paying any attention to him at all.

Whatever.

oOoOo

That stupid Ootori Kyouya.

It wasn't even like he had done anything wrong. In fact, he had done everything right. If she had been keeping score (which she most definitely was not), he would have probably earned 10/10, and extra marks for good behavior as well.

So why was she feeling so vexed?

He was just so… so… smooth. He looked cool, confident, collected, even in his sleep, like some kind of statue. And he was just as attractive as he had been before! That smirk! Those cheekbones! His eyes! Why, oh, why was she feeling so fluttery?

This entire situation is idiotic, one part of her said. Sempai, she thought, using the honorific heavily, is a businessman. Don't get carried away. His entire profession is based on keeping up appearances.

Something he's doing quite well, don't you think? her traitorous side added mischievously.

You shut up.

But he said he liked babies! That's adorable!

That's true, she said, melting slightly as she thought of the sweet smile that had played on his lips as he talked about that – Wait. Stay focused. Don't let yourself get pulled into this silly infatuation like you did in high school. You're older now. You know better.

Oh, now you're bringing up memories of high school now? That was a low blow, subconscious, Haruhi thought sarcastically.

Get a grip, Haruhi, you're not normally one to be swayed by a handsome face. You spent all of high school with the boys who have grown up to be the most eligible bachelors in Japan. You're set to become the top lawyer in the country. You're not one to rush into decisions.

No one's rushing into anything. Let's just wait and see for now.

That's something we can definitely agree on.

Having resolved to not let her emotions get to her, Haruhi turned back to Kyouya, only to find him staring pensively out the window, a worn-looking book clasped in his lap.

She peered past him through the window out at the night sky, and then gasped slightly, leaning forward and resting her hand on his arm as she got a better look.

He turned around in surprise, then smiled at her.

"Looking at the stars too?"

"It's so clear! I haven't seen so many. All my other flights, they were either during the day or the clouds were too thick, but now, this is – this is amazing, Sempai!"

"I know. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

His voice was low and soft. He looked at her with kind of a wistful smile, and she was suddenly aware that they were the only ones awake on the plane, with her head practically resting on his shoulder.

But that voice… is the façade cracking?

Kyouya took a deep breath, as if coming to a decision, then continued.

"I don't think I've ever told you about my mother, have I?"

No, in fact, he hasn't, Haruhi thought with some surprise. But then again, his parents were a topic that Tamaki told me not to bring up with him. I know his father, but his mother…?

"You remember your mother at certain times, yes? Whenever you're somewhere you associated her with, be it the courtroom or the living room, but you feel her presence?"

"Hai, Kyouya-sempai, that's true." Haruhi gave a soft smile.

Remembering his mother? Oh no, that must mean –

"It's curious." Kyouya gave a breathless laugh and pushed his glasses up his nose. "My mother, the astrophysicist, has been gone nearly 17 years, and I still think of her every time I see the night sky."

It was obvious, from the tone of his voice and the set of his jaw, that he was not looking for pity or sympathy in any way. To her, it seemed like he just wanted to relate something. She could understand.

Oh, Sempai. We have more in common than I thought, she sighed.

Even so, she placed her hand on his arm and gazed into his eyes behind those flat panes of glass. Reading in them silent thanks, she watched him place his own hand over hers and continue.

"She was – she was an extraordinary woman. She was warm, always caring. She hated to make anyone feel bad, and would tell any number of bad jokes to get them to be happy. She was the perfect wife to my father and the perfect mother to my siblings and me. And, she was absolutely brilliant. A doctorate in astrophysics – the field that she absolutely adored." He smiled distantly, recalling some memory or the other.

"She missed working and researching, something that she did less and less of, especially after Yuichi came along, but she would always take us out to the fancy telescope at her old university and show us the stars, and if we didn't have time for that, we would just sit on the balcony and look at the sky.

"Yuichi grew out of this fairly quickly, as did Fuyumi, and Akito was far too impatient to sit anywhere for long periods of time, so mostly, it was just me and her. I would be sitting there, mesmerized, as she talked about the cosmos. Haruhi," he said, leaning forward intently, "did you know that there are billions upon billions of galaxies out there? And in each of those galaxies, millions of solar systems, each with their own star to call a sun. And the sheer scale of all this! Space is just so – big! It sounds trite, but there's really no other way to put it. Just think about it, we go about our daily lives on a small planet in a universe where, on a daily basis, stars are born and die, galaxies collide, and black holes devour entire solar systems! It's really quite wonderful," he said, laughing out of sheer delight.

Haruhi was sitting there mesmerized herself, carried away by the picture his words painted. I've never seen him quite so animated about, well, anything! He sounds so excited, like a little kid. She smiled to see him so happy and allowed herself to rest her head on his shoulder.

"It sounds amazing," she said with a grin. "You know, Sempai, when I was a kid, sometimes I was afraid to look too much at the night sky."

"Really?" Kyouya asked curiously. "Why?"

"For those same reasons that you loved it so much! It seemed so big, I thought our small planet would get lost in all of it!"

They laughed together.

"Hmm, you have a point," Kyouya replied thoughtfully. "I understand. My mother was scared of entropy," he said.

"What, the inexorable march towards chaos and death? Whatever for?" Haruhi asked dryly.

"That's exactly what I told her," he replied with his characteristic smirk. "No, but really. Entropy. I thought it was such a sciencey thing to say, but really, doesn't everyone feel it?"

"I guess that's another way of phrasing crippling existential angst." Haruhi was laughing, but inside, she understood perfectly. "But how did she deal with it?"

"Whenever I would ask her that, she would just hug me and tell me that her love for her family was so strong that it overcame the entropy to put her own personal universe in order." He laughed. "Then I would tell her that wasn't physically possible. And then she would hug me even tighter and tell me I was too smart for my own good, which meant that I was definitely her son."

She saw him turn his face away and swipe at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

He drew in a ragged breath and looked at her with a rueful smile on his face, his grip on her hand tightening.

"I wish you could have met her, Haruhi. She really was incredible. I – I think that she would have liked you."

Haruhi felt her throat close up and tears prick at her eyes.

"I think I would have liked her too."

So, subconscious, what do you think of that?

Oh, fine, I think you're allowed to fall in love with him after that.

oOoOo

Kyouya was surprised at himself.

I've never told anyone that much about my mother, not even Tamaki. I don't know what prompted me to do that. But – here he glanced at Haruhi, recalling the glimmer of tears in her eyes. He smiled. I guess it was worth it.

Thank you, Mother.

He would have been content to sit like that, with Haruhi's head on his shoulder and his hand over hers, for eternity, but she finally stirred and looked at him.

"What book is that?"

He pulled the book from his lap and showed it to her.

"Oh, this? Pride and Prejudice."

"Really? Oh, that's been my favorite for years!" she sighed. Kyouya smiled.

"I know. You told me, remember?"

Haruhi looked at him in surprise, recalling that long-ago conversation. "I do. I just didn't think you would."

"Ah, Haruhi, never underestimate the power of a superior mind." He paused. "That was also a joke, in case you were wondering."

She just rolled her eyes and snatched the book from his hand, leafing through the pages eagerly.

Haruhi, I remember everything about you. Why would your favorite book be any different? I had gotten it for you, after all. All those years ago. He wasn't entirely sure why he had brought the book along. Probably just sentimental value, the kind of thing he usually abhorred. It's not very rational for me to be attached to a book. And to a novel, no less. Back then, he had spent hours searching for the perfect gift for Haruhi to tell her of his love, and he hadn't even given it to her. In the years since, he had read the book over and over, feeling the distance between him and Haruhi grow smaller as he saw flashes of her in the willful, intelligent Elizabeth. Would that make me Mr. Darcy? He grinned wryly. I guess we'll just have to see.

"It's a beautiful book, too. Such a pretty cover!" Haruhi exclaimed. Where did you find it?"

"Oh, from an old bookseller. I think it had been important to him, but he said he hoped it would bring me as much luck as it had for him." Here Kyouya smiled at her. "But that's a secret."

Haruhi laughed, then asking him,

"When do you think we'll get to Amsterdam?"

He pulled up the map on the screen in front of him.

"It looks like about 2 more hours."

"So, when we get there, it'll be morning, but our flight to Japan isn't until the evening." Haruhi thought out loud.

"Do you – that is, do you have anything planned, in the meantime?" Kyouya stammered slightly getting the words out.

"Nope, no plans," she replied. "Unless, um, Sempai, you want to do something," she continued hesitantly.

"Well then, I guess it's a date."

Kyouya was already pulling out his notebook to jot down some notes about potential travel destinations in Amsterdam. Now, this Plan C – it just might work. The Shadow King was back in full force.

This is going to be perfect.

Skip ahead for a small bonus backstory!

A/N:

Hi everyone! It's been a little while, I know, but I'll have to beg your pardon again because school starts tomorrow, and you lovely readers have the dubious luck of reading this story as I complete my college applications! So I hope everyone won't mind being deprived of this story for longish stretches ;_; but I'll try and update at least once or twice a month. With any luck (fingers crossed) it'll be done by the end of the year.

Now, all scheduling issues aside, I hope you liked this! Still a plane chapter, I know, but we saw some feelings develop and next time we get to Amsterdam! Also, for people not familiar with the concept, entropy is the 2nd law of thermodynamics discussing how everything in the universe tends to a perpetual state of disorder (like your room, maybe) and there's nothing you can do about it. Fun, I know. But Kyouya is so cute when he talks intellectual like that *squees*

I'm opening up my box for people to give me Amsterdam landmarks or monuments or places you want Kyouya and Haruhi to go to, and if I pick yours, you get my sincerest thanks and maybe your name in the story…? Think about it :D

Anyways, like I've said before, this is my first fic and I'm kinda overwhelmed at the fact that people like it! 450 views and counting, and a big thank you to all my lovely reviewers, especially luxartisan, wealhtheow1, Lady Yori, and cinimar. Also, thanks to anyone who favorited it or followed it or even just read it, it means a lot to me! Review please please please. Tell me what you liked, didn't like, give me advice, suggestions, whatever. (Even if you feel like you're shouting into the void in vain, never fear. It is probably just practicing active listening and giving you a chance to talk for once).

And finally (I'll shut up soon promise) here's a small bonus story (kind of connected to the story), since I won't be updating for a bit – this was my first short story and it's finally seeing the light. Enjoy :)

The Bookseller's Tale

The old bookseller at the little shop on the river, the store with the dark blue door, the color of the night sky, surrounded by weathered stones gray in color. Once one enters, one is hit by the sight of books, lovely books, row after row, shelf after shelf, filling up the room in no particular order except that determined by its owner's whims.

He stands in the corner, lovingly wiping the dust off of a shelf, occupying his time with these books, old and new, thick and thin, paperback and leather-bound. Behind that craggy face, once handsome but now lined and wrinkled, with sparkling eyes and a gruff demeanor, is a soft heart, as the occasional smile reveals, as does the way he sometimes rubs at his old golden wedding ring with a quiet smile playing on his lips and a distant look in his eyes. And the way, when a teenage boy with tousled hair and glasses, runs into the store out-of-breath, looking for a book to give a girl, saying it's very important, he turns away so the boy won't see him swipe brusquely at his eyes as he remembers the very day, fifty years previously, he himself stood, freezing cold yet uncaring on a bridge in the middle of a dreadful winter, with sleet pooling in his hair and joy in his heart as he watched the eyes of the raven-haired girl he loved light up as she unwrapped the small package wrapped carefully in parchment paper and tied with a worn string. The way she laughed in delight, a pure sound that pierced his soul and has remained there since, and clapped the book to her chest. The way his heart flipped when she slipped her hand into his and dragged him, breathless and exhilarated, to the other side. The way she looked at him as he lifted up her veil on their wedding day and the way he thanked his lucky stars that he was the luckiest person in the world, no, in the very universe. And the way he, throat constricted and heart pounding, read that very book to her, her hand clasped in his as she gently reclined, eyes closed and wispy gray hair streaming behind her on the pillow as her breath faded and life gradually leaked away.

He blinks rapidly, returning to the present at the boy standing there slightly confused, out and about without a scarf, his cheeks flushed and red from the cold. He clears his throat, his voice returning.

"How special is this girl?"

The boy smiles suddenly, brightening up the entire room with his shy grin, his heart in his eyes.

"I could fill up all the books in this room, telling you of her hair, her hands, her laugh, her wit, her grace, and it still wouldn't be enough."

They both stand silent for a while, appraising each other in wordless understanding.

The old man turns, walking strong and steady to the furthest bookcase, and brings down a book, worn by years and years of care, with decades of laughter and weeping, joy and sorrow, love won and life lost, all pressed between its pages.

"I have just the book."